


Apples

by coldphoenix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen, Kid Piccolo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldphoenix/pseuds/coldphoenix
Summary: Piccolo Junior struggles with his first day on Earth. It's sad, sweet and cute. *songfic*





	Apples

**Author's Note:**

> So I first heard this song in O Brother, Where Art Thou and it always reminded me of a genderbend Chi-chi caring for genderbend Goten ^_^’ But I’m watching Fargo (season 2) right now and in one episode’s end credits this song is performed by the show’s male writer, and with the male voice I _immediately_ thought up this Piccolo Junior fic. I mean, literally, I thought of the whole thing before the end of the credits. I was so into it! So… yeah. Had to write it. The song is Didn’t Leave Nobody But The Baby, and this version I’m using is performed by Noah Hawley. Gotta say, I’m so glad I wrote this. I never thought something could be both cute and depressing at the same time XD But this is! I mean… that’s what I think anyway? Please leave your thoughts…  
>  *N.B. Yes the ending is intentional. I guess Junior believes in paying it forward. That’s my headcanon now…

_Go to sleep you little baby_

_Pitter patter. Pitter patter_. The rain fell from the sky around him, rhythmically and noisily. It was so noisy… So wet and cold, and the sky was so dark when the rain was here. It was difficult to see, but he could. He could still see. He had good eyes. His father had given him good eyes. As he sat here, alone in the forest, attacked by the pouring rain, his father was all the child Piccolo Junior could think about.

_Go to sleep you little baby_

He’d only been alive for a day. He still remembered being born. He remembered being conceived. Vividly. He’d inherited his father’s memories. He saw them as if they were his own. The vision of that monkey boy was as clear as day, little Piccolo could see Goku coming towards him as if it had happened to him first. He could feel the fear in his own heart; at just a day old he knew what it was like to die… and he knew what it was like to know he only had a few seconds left to live. He could feel it… the pain of death. Piccolo tried to block it out, but all he could see was Goku coming towards him. He felt Goku’s fist going through his abdomen; he felt his body being ripped apart… he felt light-headed. He felt sick… _urp_! Piccolo lunged forward, vomiting for the third time since he’d hatched. He retched and gagged, his face twisting in pain. His stomach hurt. He’d already vomited everything up, nothing was even coming out and yet he couldn’t help retching. This was horrible… He wished he’d never been born. 

_Your momma's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay  
Didn't leave nobody but the babe_

He had to eat something. He was hungry, and thirsty. He titled his head up and opened his mouth, hoping to catch enough rain to satisfy his thirst. No… as heavy as the rain was, it wasn’t coming down fast enough. This would take forever… and he wanted more than water. Maybe it was his demonic instincts, but the child Piccolo craved solids. He looked around for something to eat; it was hard to see through the heavy rain and the endless blurry green. There was a stream, though… He could see that much at least. Maybe there would be fish. Keenly, he went to catch his first meal. 

_Go to sleep you little baby  
Go to sleep you little baby_

He got down on his hands and knees, staring into the running water of the stream. It was murky, and the raindrops hitting the water’s surface made it difficult to see below it… but he could see, just about. He could see shadows, and he could feel a very small power level. Was it a fish? Whatever it was, it was food. Piccolo dove his hand into the stream as something swam by, trying to catch it. Damn! He’d missed. He wasn’t used to his body yet; he was finding it difficult to work out distances. His hand had scared the fish away. Dammit! He hated this! Piccolo let out a pitiful groan. He was tired and hungry, all he wanted to do was catch a fish and rest. Was that too much to ask? His father had given him all of his power, why was this so hard? 

_Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn  
Didn't leave nobody but the babe_

Frustrated, Piccolo sat beside the stream for a moment, watching and waiting for the shadows of fish to return. Eventually, he saw them again. Okay… he had to be quick, and discreet. Piccolo leaned over the water, moving as close to the edge of the stream as he could, lining his hand up above his target. He leaned over a little more, and a little more… if he could just get above it, and if he was really quick with his hand he could – _splash_!

_You're a sweet little baby  
You're a sweet little baby_

_Whoosh_! _Urp_! Piccolo Junior instinctively let out a breath, his eyes widening as he suddenly found himself underwater. The fish were frightened away once more, their tails smacking him in the face as thy hurriedly swam away. _Thwack_! Piccolo flinched, and bore his teeth in annoyance as they struck him, as if they were mocking him. _**Dammit**_! “Fcccc!” He cursed loudly, his anger muffled by the murky water that entered his mouth. His ki soared, causing titanic waves to form in the once peaceful stream. He _**hated**_ this!

_Honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop  
Gonna bring a bottle to the babe_

Angry, and exhausted, the young Piccolo dragged himself out of the stream and threw himself onto the land. Not dry land. The rain was still falling heavy; he landed in mud. He coughed and spluttered, expelling the unwanted water from his lungs. It tasted horrible. This was a dirty stream. Did he really have to drink out of this? No… no! This wasn’t fair! He was the son of the Great Demon King Piccolo; his father had given him everything he had! He wasn’t supposed to be here! He wasn’t supposed to be stuck in this stupid forest in the pouring rain, with this dirty stream and these stupid fish that refused to get caught – _**this wasn’t fair**_! He fell down on his back, and closed his eyes. This wasn’t fair… Piccolo Junior almost sobbed, his new-born heart sinking in despair. He felt so sorry for himself. Why had this happened to him…? King Piccolo was supposed to be ruling the world – if he was here he wouldn’t let this happen! He wouldn’t leave his son alone, soaking wet and starving. Why wasn’t he here…?

_Don't you weep pretty baby  
Don't you weep pretty baby_

Piccolo lay for a long moment, with his eyes closed, sniffing under the rain and it fell down onto him. He kept his mind as clear as he could. If he didn’t, he would see horrible things… He would feel – “Ah!” He yelped, as another horrific memory darted into his mind. He felt such grief all of a sudden. He felt pain… Cymbal. Cymbal was dead. He could feel it, through his father’s memories. He could feel the moment when their bond had been broken, when King Piccolo had felt the life disappear from his son. Cymbal… No, no… Piccolo Junior sniffed, battling the overwhelming grief that was too intense for his young mind to handle. Cymbal, then Tambourine… _**No**_! He jumped to his feet, before the memories killed him. No. No, he had to stop thinking about that. He couldn’t allow himself to think about it! It was in the past. It was memories. He had to focus on now. Now, he was here. On his own. His mission was very clear, he had to avenge his family. That was all he could think about. He had to become strong. He had to kill Son Goku. … He had to eat. Piccolo sniffed. He wiped his eyes and shook the rain from his head, and made his way deep into the forest. Maybe he would find a rabbit. 

_She's long gone with her red shoes on  
Gonna need another loving babe_

He walked for what felt like hours, even though it wasn’t. There wasn’t a single animal anywhere; they were all taking shelter from the rain. Maybe he should do that as well. Maybe it would be better for him to take shelter somewhere, until the rain stopped, and wait for the forest animals to emerge. Yeah… yeah, okay. That was a good idea. Piccolo was annoyed at himself for not thinking of it sooner. He walked through the forest, this time in search of a cave. There were mountains nearby, there had to be something there – _snap_!

_Don't you weep pretty baby  
Don't you weep pretty baby_

“ _ **Ahhhhhhhhhh**_!” Piccolo Junior let out a loud, blood-curdling scream that echoed all through the forest, shaking the trees around him. What… what the hell… had _happened_? He looked down at his small body as it became flooded with pain, and his eyes widened. What… what was that? It was a large metal thing; at first he thought it was an animal, its teeth were cutting into him, all up his legs and into his abdomen. Crap! Crap, something was eating him! He breathed frantically, scrunching his eyes shut to block out the pain. He couldn’t feel any ki… this thing wasn’t an animal. Piccolo took a deep breath, and opened his eyes, long enough to study the thing. It was… it was a bear trap. Yeah! A bear trap. A _bear trap_? What the hell! Seriously? The universe had to be mocking him… Piccolo Junior whimpered, trying his best not to cry as the teeth of the weapon sunk deep into his flesh. He would bleed to death if he didn’t get away. He tried to pull it off, but in his weakened state he accidentally let go, and he let out an almighty scream as it snapped back closed on him again, almost tearing him in two. The pain was overwhelming; he had to battle to stay conscious. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep, so badly… He felt so weak. He could feel his life draining away… No… No, it couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t! He had no choice. He wouldn’t be able to pull himself away; had to blow the trap off, and risk harming himself in the blast. He hadn’t used his ki much before, and he wasn’t very good at it. He didn’t know how to control it! But if he didn’t do this, he would die. Soon. He was feeling light-headed; he could feel his own blood coating his already wet clothing. He had to do this _now_. Okay… okay. Piccolo Junior took a deep breath, and braced himself for more pain.

_You and me and the devil makes three  
Don't need no other lovin' babe_

_Blast_! “ _ **Ahhh**_!” Piccolo cried out as the harsh metal trap blew to bits against him, filling his body with a hot, searing pain. He breathed rapidly, snarling and hissing through his agony. God, it hurt so much… This was worse than dying! He thought he would pass out from the pain; he could barely keep himself awake! But… but it was gone. It had worked. The trap was gone, Piccolo Junior slowly started to realise that. He was out of danger; the heat of the blast had cauterised his wounds, and his body was… reasonably okay. He was in agony, so much it was making his eyes water. He was covered in cuts and burns; pieces of metal were stuck into his skin… but he could take them out. As ruined as his body was, it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed, if he ate. God… he was so hungry. He just had to make it to the mountains. It would be okay… if he just found a cave, and took shelter for a while… he’d be okay. He would survive. Piccolo inhaled sharply, biting his lip to stop himself breaking down into tears, and he dragged his wounded body towards the edge of the forest.

_Go to sleep you little baby  
Go to sleep you little baby_

He made it. Finally. The young Piccolo Junior finally reached the mountains, and settled down inside a cave. There were twigs on the floor, and he immediately used his ki to start a fire. He was cold. He was freezing! He hadn’t felt cold yet, but his injuries were killing him. He had to take a look. Slowly, he started to remove what was left of his clothing. He hissed loudly as he pulled at it; the fibres of his clothes had embedded themselves into his skin, stuck to him under the force of the blast. “ _Ahhhhh_!” Piccolo Junior moaned in agony, his face twisting in pain as he tore his clothes away from his body. It felt like he was skinning himself alive! Then, bravely, he looked down at the bloody mess that was left of him… and he whimpered. Oh… he didn’t know where to start. He was a wreck. He’d only been alive for a day, and already… he was ruined. Patches of skin were missing from where he’d torn off his clothing; there were gaping holes in his abdomen and legs from where the bear trap had almost torn him apart. Bits of metal were stuck to him… He could pull them out, and he could clean himself up, but he was exhausted. He could regenerate himself, but he didn’t have the energy. He was tired, and hungry. He was alone. He wanted his father. He wanted to be in King’s Castle, next to his father’s throne where he belonged. Not out here. Not in the woods, soaking wet and covered in his own blood. He didn’t deserve this! Why did he have to go through this? Piccolo Junior lay down beside the fire, and closed his eyes… and he gave in. He didn’t care; he was too exhausted to fight it. He started to cry.

_Come and lay your bones on the alabaster stones  
And be my everlovin’ babe_

Piccolo Junior sobbed into the floor of the cave, for he didn’t know how long. All he could think about what how shit his life was. How he was all alone, with nothing left of his family except the memories of their deaths. Why weren’t they here? He wanted them here! He wanted them to fix his wounds, and give him a proper place to sleep. Why was it raining? Why didn’t the fish let him catch them? Why weren’t there any animals to eat? Why did the bear trap attack him? Why was he cold, and wet, and dirty? Why? Why why why why **why**! Piccolo scrunched his eyes shut, shivering and whimpering through his pain. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t sure he would wake up. His body was shaking; he felt nauseous. He was just about ready to puke again when… _gasp_! He felt something. A cold breeze of air suddenly brushed past his neck. He sat up sharply, and looked towards the mouth of the cave… and he saw two apples roll in from outside. What…? Where did they come from…? Piccolo was confused, but he didn’t question it. He was starving! He hurriedly crawled over to them, ignoring the searing pain of his wounds, and he scooped them up in his arms before throwing them into his mouth, one after the other. He munched on them hungrily and desperately, and as he did so he felt a warm weight on his shoulder, accompanied by what he could have sworn felt like a clawed hand.


End file.
